


Sugar

by Losille



Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:18:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Losille/pseuds/Losille
Summary: Benny and Tess Sweet: Twins. Business partners. Georgia natives. Southern belles. And each others’ greatest allies against the world. Neither could predict how their lives would change when a wayward Englishman wanders into Tess’ cake and tea shop, SweetYums, in a desperate search for a proper English tea. Prepare for cavities.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinderella1181](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinderella1181/gifts).



> This will be mostly marshmallow fluff, with tons of empty calories, but hopefully a good time. Don’t know how updates will fit in with my current writing schedule with Home/Safe Upon the Shore, TCA, and Saving Grace, but I desperately needed to put this up because I have a mighty need for happy times. Story will focus mostly on Benny’s and Tess’ POV, maybe with some Tom and Jai POVs.

Benny checked her watch for what seemed the millionth time since taking her place in the lengthy line at craft services. God, she was so late. She should have known better than to schedule her last shoot of the day so close to five, especially when it was on the opposite side of town from where she needed to be at six. Now it was almost useless to rush, knowing the traffic waiting for her on the freeways with everyone getting off work.

The blonde actress in front of Benny—no one famous, well, not yet at least—took her time ordering her triple venti iced soy latte with one—no,  _two_ —shots of espresso. And maybe she wanted one of the baked goods. But what baked good? Were the scones low in sugar? What about the pound cake? Full of butter? Ick.

Benny rolled her eyes when the girl finally scrunched her nose and decided not to eat anything, even though it looked like she hadn’t eaten anything in at least a month. One good wind was liable to knock her right down, Benny thought, but kept it to herself by biting her tongue. The actress floated away down the bar to await her beverage, finally giving Benny the ability to step forward.

The thoroughly unenthused clerk behind the till looked at her as though he were daring her to compound the last ten minutes he’d spent with Ms. Actress and her indecisiveness. Benny smiled apologetically at the guy and giggled. “Just a small mocha, no whip.”

“That’s… it?” he asked.

Benny nodded.

“Oh, thank god.”

She laughed and dug out a ten dollar bill from the leather coin purse dangling from her wrist. “Keep the tip.”

The clerk paused for a second, holding the bill tightly in his fingers. He contemplated accepting it, but his Southern modesty won out. “I can’t, ma’am.”

She shook her head. “Keep it. Seriously. Heaven knows the shit you go through.”

“You have no idea. Thank you,” he said and dropped the change in his tip jar. “You’re not an actress? Are you on a crew?”

“I’m a photographer,” she replied, simultaneously pointing to the visitor’s pass hanging from her neck and the large black camera bag on her shoulder. “Mr. Perry called me in to do some promo shots for one of his new movies.”

He grabbed a cup from a stack and grabbed a Sharpie. “That’s cool. Name?”

“Benny.”

He looked past her as he quickly scribbled the name and handed it off to the other person pouring and slinging the drinks with the efficiency of a seasoned barista.

A large shadow fell over them a moment later. Benny glanced at the two men who stopped in the queue behind her. She tried to hide her shock, but she was sure she gave herself away as the one with slicked-back dirty blond hair and the sculpted body of a linebacker caught her eye. He grinned and winked, assessing her body from head to toe, but stopping for a length on her tits. She straightened her back and stuck those babies out, not one iota shy about the male attention or the size of her rack. What was the use in having twins, anyway, if they didn’t make her breasts permanently grow a full cup size, even long after she’d stopped nursing?

The man beside the first—tall, reedy-but-well-muscled, and gorgeously English—noticed where his friend’s attention had gone. He also grinned, nodded a wordless greeting and turning back to his conversation.

Benny thanked the clerk again and stepped away to wait for her drink to be made. She listened to the two men order and give their names to the clerk—Jai and Tom. Of course, she knew their names already, but it was nice to hear them say it in their native accents. When they joined her waiting for their drinks, she overheard bits of their conversation, but tried to stay out of it. That was, of course, until the Englishman bemoaned the lack of quality English tea in a location known for its saccharine sweet tea, which was just as much sugary syrup as it was water and tea.

The barista slid her mocha out on the platform and gave her a smile, but Benny was busy digging through the camera bag for the stack of business cards she kept hidden for instances such as this.

She stepped between the two men, who looked at her with mild interest, but not unhappy that she had interrupted them. She lifted the card up and held it out to Tom. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I thought I could help you out with your tea problem.”

Tom smiled. “Thank you, darling. What do you suggest I do?”

“My twin, Tess, owns a cake and tea shop in Decatur,” she explained. “It’s not close to the studio, I’ll grant you that, but she’s meticulous about serving good English tea. If you’re jonesing for a taste of home and you have some free time, you should check it out.”

Tom didn’t hesitate to take the card from her fingers. “SweetYums?”

But Jai was concerned about other things. “There’s  _two_ of you?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Benny laughed. “And yes, sir, a play on our surname.”

“You should,” Jai replied. He clearly had fantasies of twins.

Benny opened her mouth to say that they were fraternal and looked nothing alike except for a passing familiar resemblance, but the cell phone in her pocket stopped her. She knew it was probably the daycare calling about her children; she was meant to pick them up by five-thirty—and she’d clearly blown past it.

“Oh, I’ve got to go,” she said and lifted her mocha in salute to the two men. “Have a wonderful evening!”

They voiced the same; she felt their eyes linger for a little while longer as she walked away, but she ignored them.  There were two little people elsewhere in the city she needed to focus on.

* * *

 By some miracle, traffic wasn’t as bad as usual and she arrived before the daycare closed at six. A feat she probably wouldn’t ever be able to accomplish again.  Despite every fail safe she put in place to try to be on time, she always managed to be late.  She’d be late to her funeral, too, if she had her way.

Charlotte and Raleigh were the last two in the room, quietly sitting together with their backpacks on their five-year-old shoulders.  The teacher, Miss Kelly, gladly handed them off with nothing more than a grunt and a sigh of relief as they walked out the door.  Benny figured no news was good news where they were concerned—they were holy terrors on their best days, just as their mama and her twin had been when they were small.  She often thought it was payback for the hell she and Tess put their parents through.

When they were finally in the car on the way home, Charlie’s voice pierced the quiet ambient noise of chattering children and radio.

“Mama?”

Benny glanced in the rear-view mirror, catching her baby girl’s bright blue eyes. “What, baby?”

“Do you know who my daddy is?”

A bolt of fear shot through Benny. After the day she had, the last thing she wanted to discuss was who had fathered the twins.  Especially since he didn’t know about them.

“Well, um,” she cleared her throat, “why?”

“Miss Kelly said our daddies were supposed to bring us to daycare in a few weeks for a party.”

“Oh,” Benny said. She hadn’t heard anything about any parties involving fathers. But she supposed the information was probably in their backpacks.

  
“And Sarah said her daddy was going to be there and I want my daddy there, too,” Charlie said.

_Oh, God. No. Not now._

Benny coughed into her hand. “We’ll talk about it later, Charlie, okay? Mama’s had a pretty busy day and Papaw may go with you.”

“But I don’t  _want_  Papaw to go with me! I want my daddy!”

It took everything in Benny’s soul not to shout that her daddy probably didn’t want her. Not that she actually knew that, seeing as she never summoned the courage to reach out to him after she found out she was pregnant. Well, reach out to his “people,” she supposed. There’d be no getting to him personally—even if she wanted to do that. Which she didn’t. Because it was ludicrous to even think he’d want anything to do with them—much less deal with the fallout from his wife—once it came out that he had twins from a random one night stand.

Benny drew in a breath and looked again in the mirror, meeting her daughter’s eyes. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“But Mama!”

“No!”

And that sent her off crying. Raleigh grabbed Charlie’s arm to comfort her, but Charlie batted it away and slapped him. Then they were  _both_  crying and trying to kill the other.  Benny turned around as soon as she stopped at a spotlight.

“Stop it! Now! Both of you!” she said. “We don’t hit each other!”

“He started it!” Charlie whimpered through large crocodile tears.

Benny groaned. “Both of you sit still and shut— _be quiet_ ,” she stopped herself and clenched her fingers around the steering wheel. “We’ll be home in a few minutes and both of you are going to your bedrooms until dinner.”

They wailed in unison. “Mama! No!”

She shot them both a look, the look she had long since mastered, the one her mother had passed down to her by some freak genetic code—that one that meant business. Even at five, they understand she was at the end of her rope.

The car behind them laid on the horn. Benny groaned and turned back in her seat, finding a green light.  She angrily waved at the car behind her, then balled her hand in a fist to prevent a lone middle finger popping up in front of the children.

Blissful silence followed as she drove home and pulled into the driveway to find her sister unloading groceries and carrying them upstairs to her apartment.  Tess hopped back down the stairs and stopped beside her car, waiting for Benny to pull into her parking spot and cut the ignition.  Her twin looked like she’d had a long day, but she hid her exhaustion with a bright smile.  It never failed that even when she was feeling the worst, Tess always managed to ignore it.  Benny wished she had her sunny disposition sometimes.

Tess dove once more into the trunk of the car, stretching for one of the bags that had been pushed back into the dark recesses of the vehicle.  When she emerged, she said, “Hey,” and grabbed another bag.

“Charlie, Raleigh, take your aunt’s groceries up.”

“Ah, Mama…”

“Don’t make me punish you for longer.”

Both children sighed, grabbed the last of the bags from Tess’ hands and ran full speed up the stairs and slammed the door on the upper floor apartment. Tess frowned and looked at Benny. “What’s going on with them?”

“They got into a fight and I told them they had to stay in their room until dinner,” Benny said. “And… Charlie wants to know who her father is.”

Tess pursed her lips and stuck out her hip, resting it against her blue Ford. “I’d like to know who her father is, too…”

“I’m so sick and tired of this shit, Tess,” Benny replied. “Why does it even matter? He’s not in their life, I think I’m doing an okay job by myself. We don’t need him, so why should I complicate matters?”

“Because everyone wants to know who their parents are,” Tess said. “Wouldn’t you?”

Benny groaned and shook her head. “You just don’t understand. When you have kids, you’ll understand.”

“When I have kids, I plan to be in a committed relationship with the father.”

Benny squinted her eyes at her sweet, innocent sister.  Thirty-two she may well have been, but Tess was still the same optimistic—and naive—sister. She’d been on a constant parade of first dates since college. Nothing ever seemed to take, but she held out for her happily ever after.  And held out. And held out, hoping each successive try that someday some guy would come along and be everything but the sorts of losers men always turned out to be.

“When you actually have a relationship, the world will end,” Benny said.

“Hey, don’t jump down my throat just because you’re in a bad mood.” Tess stood tall and shook her head.

Benny felt bad for saying what she did to Tess. It wasn’t right to criticize Tess for something she couldn’t really control, nor the shyness that prevented her from getting out of her bakery’s kitchen and spending time socializing. That’s just who Tess was, and even though she was a naturally shy person, that didn’t mean she hadn’t lived life and spent nary more than a few days at a time without being around Benny. Frankly, Charlotte and Raleigh were as much her children as they were Benny’s.

Benny puffed up and cheeks and sighed. “I’m sorry I snapped. It’s just been a stressful day. And the daycare got pissed off again that I was late for their pick-up time.”

“I can always swing by if you can’t make it, Ben,” Tess said. “It’s literally five minutes away.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” Benny replied. “You’re usually busy cleaning up and prepping for the next day.”

Tess shrugged. “Why were you late anyway? I thought your shoot was at three.”

Benny laughed. “You know the movie industry. Hurry up and wait. And then I needed caffeine and the chick in front of me was taking  _forever_.”

“Ah,” Tess said and pushed away from the car. “There’s a pot roast and the fixings in the oven. I should probably go check on it.”

Benny’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten much all day. “What’s for dessert?”

“Oh, I was fiddling around with a new cinnamon roll recipe today,” she said. “So there’s a really crumbly pan of cinnamon rolls upstairs. Tastes good, but the dough in the recipe is crap. Still can’t find anything better than Old Memaw’s recipe.”

“Why mess with perfection?” Benny asked, slinging her arm around Tess’ shoulders as they walked to the stairs leading up to Tess’ second-floor apartment. The lights in the downstairs apartment flipped on and she heard running feet and screaming.

Great. The twins. How could two five-year-olds sound like a herd of wildebeests?

Benny groaned. “No dessert for them tonight.”

“That’s fine. I’ll warm those bad boys up and we’ll eat them directly out of the pan,” Tess said.

“Then we’ll go to the gym tomorrow.”

Tess laughed. “Maybe you will. I’ve got five weddings this weekend.”

Benny rolled her eyes, but cracked a smile anyway. The truth was, Tess never needed to hit the gym because she never stopped moving throughout the day, and sweat off whatever she consumed in the grueling heat of a high-volume kitchen. Benny, on the other hand, didn’t have that luxury.

“Alright. Let me go take care of these hooligans,” Benny said. “When should we be up?”

“In an hour, tops.”

Benny saluted and diverted toward her front door. She stood outside for a moment, breathing a few calming breaths. Sometimes, especially nights like this, she thought it would be nice to have someone else in her life. A male someone, maybe. Hell, even a female someone. But it would need to be someone willing to deal with the twins’ rampant lawlessness as much as she did. She hated always being the bad guy. Sharing the load might be nice.

However, that someone would never,  _ever_  be their biological father. Because he was never,  _ever_  going to find out about them.

 _Ever_.

Benny squared her shoulders like a conquering warrior and pushed open the door. Those two didn’t know what they were in for.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lotsa Tom in this one. Jai in the next one. I have no idea where this story is going or how I’m going to get there, but I’m glad you’re along for the ride. Thank you for reading!

****Tom didn’t know what to expect as he pulled into a parking space behind a row of shops sandwiched together on a short plat of land. They were nestled between train tracks to the north, homes to the south and east, and Agnes Scott College directly to the west. If he hadn’t had the directions on his GPS, he probably would have passed it and never seen the small, but elegantly lettered, signs on the front of the building, as hidden as it was. The exterior of the brick row looked in moderate repair, but nothing incredibly posh or upscale. He supposed it felt more like a quiet little shop in the middle of a country village back home than it did a happening Starbucks in the middle of Westminster.

Honestly, it suited him. Especially if he wanted to lay low and really enjoy the brew he was about to have. Even if it wasn’t as good as the attractive woman who had given him the business card had intimated, he was going to make the best of it. Because if he went one more place and received another dumbfounded, confused look from a server when he said no to sweet tea, he was going to scream. He loved sweets just as much, if not  _more_ , than the average person, but sweet tea was a disgusting, syrupy concoction that hardly deserved the word “tea” attached to it.

The Yanks might rightfully claim superior gastronomic adventures, but not when it came to tea. Not for the first time, he thought that if they spent more time trying to  _drink_  the tea instead of throwing it into a Boston harbor, they could develop their understanding of the beverage.

Tom chuckled to himself at the private joke and rounded the corner toward the front of the building, gliding along the sidewalk past a salon and photography studio. He paused for a moment, remembering that the woman yesterday had been carrying camera equipment, and looked up at the door. The sign read “Sweetcheeks Photography.” His smile grew. Clearly, they found a theme and stuck with it, but he couldn’t imagine a better play on words than that, considering the sassy attitude of the woman he’d briefly met. He’d be lying if he said her open friendliness, completely devoid of the airs of a fame seeker, coupled her attractiveness, hadn’t also played a huge part in him driving forty-five minutes to find this place after he finished filming this morning.

He hoped her twin was just like her.

The shop past the photography studio had a decorative wrought iron signpost hanging above the door. SweetYums was spelled in decorative calligraphic typography and integrated with a small tiered cake logo like the card in his pocket. He peered through the front window, finding the main entrance empty and sedate.

What he stepped in on, however, was an entirely different story.

There was an ear-shattering scream and then raised voices, a clatter of metallic pans and cutlery banging together or falling. Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.  He thought about turning right back around, but stopped the instant he saw  _her_.

She emerged from a door in the back of the dining room, an expression of worry and resolve mixing on her round face and shining back at him through emerald eyes similar the woman from the day before. He hadn’t been told the twins were fraternal, but he understood that now, assessing the faintest outline of the new woman’s feminine form beneath an otherwise shapeless chef’s uniform of black and white.

Seeing him, she paused and nodded to the seating area. “Please sit wherever you like, both dining rooms are open. I’ll have someone with you shortly.”

Her voice. God, her voice. Soft yet firm, something so smoothly feminine it made him shiver. Not twangy, but a slow drawl of honey. And he didn’t even particularly like Southern accents. Coming from her, though, it was the very best.

He turned to look back at the dining room, and noticed another door leading to a bright atrium.  On closer inspection, he found the atrium contained a more formal set up populated with matching vintage furniture in crackled white lacquer and soft pastel upholsteries. Clearly, they used the space for parties and other important events more than the dining room he’d first walked into.

The main dining room was a literal hodgepodge of furniture, slouchy leather chairs, beaten upholstered couches, scuffed wooden surfaces, and books. Lots and lots of old, well-loved books piled in the center of tables and lined up on a few book shelves. It looked like the coziest place in the world, with a handful of small reading nooks perfect for hiding away from the world. He fell in love with it the moment he sunk down into a squashed low chair that, just by looking at it, should have been the most  _un_ comfortable place to sit in the store.

It turned out to be the most comfortable.  

He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned his head back on the chair, listening to the noises from inside the working kitchen as they spilled out into the main dining room.

“I’m so sorry, Tess,” said a small female voice, heaving with emotion and tears. “I didn’t mean to ruin the whole—”

“Honey,” said Tess, “you stop. The cake can be remade. You cannot. I’m only glad it’s not worse.”

The crying worker sniffled. “But you got all those wedding cakes to do.”

Tess chuckled. “Sit down and wait for your mama to come pick you up.”

“I don’t need to sit.”

“Yes, you do,” Tess said.

Tom craned his neck to see a young girl obediently sink down on a comfy chair near the front, holding a pad of gauze against a bandaged hand. Tess dropped down onto her haunches and looked up at the girl. She brushed at a few curlicues of the girl’s hair, then pulled the hair net from the girl and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin.

“You’ll be fine, sweetheart,” she cooed, knocking the girl under her chin with a bent finger. “But the next time you feel the need to bleed, let us know and we’ll schedule a Walking Dead cake for that day.”

Tom couldn’t contain his laughter at that comment, and neither could the girl, but it drew their attention to him. Tess sighed and stood up. “Wait here, Keisha. Your mama said she’d be here in a few. I need to help this gentleman.”

The girl nodded and Tess disappeared for a moment and reappeared carrying a menu. She smiled brightly. “I’m so sorry for the wait.”

She stopped in front of him, holding out the menu. He took it, accidentally brushing her fingers as he did so; Tess pulled her hand back and reached into her pocket for a pen, as though trying to ignore the crackle of energy that passed between them.

 _Strange_.

He certainly had not expected something like that surge of electric interest to pass between them. It was unexpected, but not wholly unwanted. He’d just arrived on set the week before—he’d yet to find feminine company to entertain him while he was in town. Maybe she was the one to fit the bill?

Tom swept his gaze over her again. She was pretty, no doubt about it. And the way she’d behaved with the girl—such genuine kindness was a massive turn on, especially after the last few women he’d had in his life. But he promised himself he’d be on his best behavior. He’d promised his publicists and Marvel that he’d be good—to avoid a circus like the previous summer. Sure, Tess wasn’t famous, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t cause problems for him. The last thing he or his career needed was another scandal… of sorts.

Was she even the sort of woman who had flings? He didn’t think so, simply from a few minutes of conversation about nothing of consequence. Her sister, Benny, however—now,  _she_  seemed like the type who enjoyed herself freely and noncommittally. But she hadn’t really caught his attention in the same way; she was almost  _too_  forward.

“So, I was referred here by your sister,” he said, clearing his throat. He glanced at the menu, but didn’t really read it. Instead, he looked back up at Tess. “Said this was the place to be for a proper English tea.”

She laughed lightly, cheeks growing rosy. “Well, we try. Hopefully, it lives up to your discerning palate.”

Tom grinned. “Let’s start easy. Breakfast or Earl Grey?”

“Earl Grey,” she said. “It pairs well with our June flavor-of-the-month cupcake—A Midsummer Night’s Passion Fruit Dream.”

“Then I’ll have that,” he replied, sliding the menu back to her. He didn’t even bother finding out what exactly this cupcake was made of; it didn’t really matter. He’d never met a sweet he didn’t want to eat.

Tess nodded. “We also have a full afternoon tea with finger sandwiches and scones, if you’d prefer something more substantial and savory.”

“Frankly, you could bring a platter of cake and I’d be fine that,” he said. “And thank you for saying ‘scones’ correctly.”

She chuckled and pointed to the menu. “I’ll leave that there in case you want to look it over for something else. But in the meantime, one pot of the Earl and a cupcake coming right up.”

Tom watched her walk away, unable to pull his attention from the swing of her hips and the roundness of her arse as she moved. Even in the nondescript and baggy chef’s pants, her anatomy made his mouth water. It certainly wasn’t from the enduring scent of sugar heavy in the air, though he was sure it helped. Did she taste like sugar, too?

He licked his lips and shook his head to clear the images forming in it. He couldn’t possibly…

Keisha hurriedly waved Tess over as she walked by, and Tess joined her side. “What’s up?”

The girl leaned her head in and whispered, not quietly enough, “Do you know who that is?”

Tess didn’t even look back at him. “I do. Benny told me he might stop by after she ran into him at the studio yesterday.”

“Oh my god,” Keisha said. “I can’t wait to tell my friends!”

Tom cringed. Great. Now he’d never be able to come back.

What surprised him, though, was Tess placing a hand on Keisha’s arm to stop the girl from reaching for her cell phone. Most people would love to point out a celebrity dined at their establishment for promotion. “How about giving him some privacy? If he wanted to be seen, he would have come without the hat and sunglasses.”

Tess could have spoken more softly, but he had the distinct feeling she didn’t so he would hear her clearly. He was grateful to know he was safe, seeing as he already had every intention of coming back for more—he was here filming for two more months. And judging from the look of the showcases in the front of the store, there were plenty of choices to keep him filled until then. And when that ended, there was a delectable baker he wouldn’t mind sampling.

He had, however, forgotten the ball cap and sunglasses, so he removed them and set them aside.

“Oh,” Keisha said, crestfallen. “I guess you’re right.”

When Keisha settled into her seat, Tess turned back to him with a wink. A violent red blush colored her cheeks before she herself scurried into the kitchen—or, at least, to parts of the building he had not seen.

Soon, an older woman with large sunglasses appeared and whisked Keisha off to the doctor to see to her hand. Tess bade them farewell and then shut the door, locking it and flipping the “Closed” sign into place.

“You don’t have to do that on my account,” Tom heard himself telling her. Though, he had to admit, it would be nice to have some peace after a long night and early morning of filming.

  
Tess startled and turned around to him. “No worries.”

Then she disappeared again for a few minutes and came back with a silver tray laden with a fancy bone china teacup and saucer, and a mismatched teapot with all the necessary accoutrement. It added to the kooky, eclectic atmosphere and made him smile. Like he was right back home at his mum’s quaint seaside cottage.

On a small plate sat a large cupcake—larger than he was used to—decorated with an artful swirl of ivory frosting lightly dusted with glitter and finished with a tropical flower of some sort. It looked magical, like it had walked right out of the pages of Shakespeare’s play. But he figured she planned it that way.

“It’s looks too spectacular to eat,” he said, reaching out to finger the flower on top. “Is it all edible? This looks so real.”

Tess puffed up at his assessment, her smile glowing. Though he’d noticed her loveliness before, suddenly, it was like she’d stepped out of a shady spot and into the sunlight, giving him a glimpse of her true beauty. It lasted only a second before it shuttered again and the soft spoken, unassuming businesswoman returned.

“Everything is completely edible,” she replied.

Tom licked his lips again and glanced up at her from underneath his eyelashes. He sunk his teeth into his cheek to refrain from asking if she was edible, as well. Or, perhaps, if he might be able to lick some of the icing directly from her skin. But even if she were less soft spoken—more brazen—asking that so soon would not make a good impression.

“The icing is a vanilla buttercream, and the cake itself is lemon with a passionfruit filling,” she explained.

“I hope my head won’t turn into a giant arse,” he murmured.

She giggled. “I’d be more worried about falling in love with the wrong person.”

“True.”

“But you’d have to get it in your eyes to do that,” she replied. “So, I think you’re safe. Unless you’re a really messy eater.”

He grinned.  _Was_ he safe from falling in love?

Tess sighed and looked back toward the kitchen. “Anyway, I need to get back there. We’re so behind now. This isn’t the best customer service, but we’re really struggling today with manpower—if you need anything at all, please just come pop your head in the kitchen. I apologize, it’s usually not like this—”

Tom held up a hand to stop her. “I have no problem at all. I think I’m just going to enjoy the quiet and maybe find something to read.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said.

“You really didn’t need to close up on my account,” he reiterated.

She shook her head. “Like I said, we’re backed up. It’ll help us get back on track… and I imagine you wouldn’t mind not being bothered. Right?”

He sighed. “You have no idea.”

“Great,” she said. “Enjoy your tea.”

With that, she turned and scurried away. Tom reached for a stack of books on another table and quickly settled on the worn bright blue copy of  _Outlander_. He’d never read it, nor had he seen the television show, but he’d certainly heard plenty about it from the women in his life. He figured he might as well give it little read while he relaxed.

* * *

 

Tess tossed another dirty cake pan in the giant industrial sink, choosing to ignore the growing pile lest she realize she wasn’t getting home anytime before nine that night.

Naturally, as if the universe planned it to happen on their busiest week of the year so far, a summertime flu had circulated indiscriminately around the bakery. It took out everyone but Keisha, the front store clerk, and DeAndre, her assistant baker. Everything else became a comedy of errors as they struggled to complete what a team of six did daily, with Keisha biting the dust in the most epic fashion with a large knife and a flaming hot 16-inch wedding cake tier coming straight from the oven.

It wouldn’t have been so bad if they weren’t right in the middle of wedding season, and she hadn’t accepted five cake orders for this weekend alone. To be fair, though, she’d known about them all well in advance of the apocalyptic flu. Had planned for them. Scheduled the correct staff to fill the orders. But then they’d started dropping like flies and cake wasn’t really something you could make too far ahead. Or with sick people getting their germs into the mixes and decorations.

She could only hope she wasn’t next. She couldn’t afford a day off.

She could  _never_  afford a day off.

Days off just weren’t possible when you owned your own business, especially when the business relied on fresh product made every single day the doors opened.

Sometimes Tess wanted to throw the towel in. It’d be much easier to work in someone else’s kitchen, with set shift times. And maybe with an entire day off here and there. Oh, and paid sick time for herself, and company health insurance she didn’t have to pay through the nose for.

Even so, all those dreams of easier days floated away as soon as she delivered a cake to a bride on her wedding day and saw the beaming smiles. She always felt the excitement and love in the room on those days. Even the horrible Bridezillas cracked a smile when she showed up with their order exactly how they’d envisioned it.

There were also the little kids who ran around excited because she presented them with their special firetruck cake, or the cupcakes frosted in the shape of Mickey. Oh, and then there were the mothers who got the thrill of a gender reveal, and fathers who practically collapsed when they found out they were having twins. Or the hundreds of other festivities and holidays she helped people celebrate with a little dose of sugar.

There was something invigorating about that. Something that kept her going, working. There was something intoxicatingly joyful about being a “neighborhood baker” and being part of peoples’ lives, seeing them grow up, get married, have babies, and then repeat the cycle all over. It was demanding work, but she knew she wouldn’t trade the incredible warmth that exploded from her heart and filled every cell in her body each time she made someone happy. Nothing would ever compare. Nothing  _could_ compare.

So, she slogged on, desperately trying to remind herself what it felt like to deliver happiness.

Tess groaned and leaned back against the large stainless steel worksurface in the middle of the kitchen. Her fingers had long since gone numb from endless decorative piping. Her legs ached. She hadn’t spent this much time on her legs in front of the oven in ages.

It was a rare moment of calm, just long enough to catch her breath before the next wave of timers started beeping at her.  The jiggling door handle at the back door stole her attention, and Benny popped her brunette head inside a moment later.

“Why are you closed?” Benny asked, stepping into the kitchen. Benny made a quick visual sweep of the room, pausing for a moment on the sink and heap of dirty pots and pans. Her lip curled in distaste.

“Nobody to run the front,” Tess replied, sighing at her sister. “Wouldn’t want to take some time to help me out, would ya?”

Benny shook her head and laughed. Tess didn’t, but she shrugged. Worth a try, anyway. Benny hated working in foodservice. The customer service always did her in; it often made Tess wonder how she was able to run a successful photography studio with such a short fuse. As affable and talkative and people-minded as she was, Benny had an incredibly tough time dealing with slow or stupid customers.

Benny held up her oversized coffee mug. The one Tess got her for Christmas that read “Male Tears”. “I’m just here for a refill.”

“There’s a new pot,” Tess said, nodding to the front of the shop.

“Thanks!”

Tess watched her twin flit into the other room, but soon followed her. “You know, I should start making you pay for all the coffee you drink. It’s not cheap.”

Benny frowned. “But you know what I’m like if I don’t have my coffee.”

“Right,” Tess said with nod. Benny was a witch without sufficient caffeine. “I should probably check on my guest while I’m out here.”

“I thought you were closed?” Benny asked, setting the coffee pot back on the warmer.

Tess shook her head. “I let him stay.”

“Who is it?” Benny inched slowly to the edge of the wall and peered around the corner. “Oh! Hi! I didn’t expect you to make it so soon!”

Tess cringed at her sister’s voice. The woman couldn’t stop flirting if her life depended on it.

“I had to see what the fuss was about,” Tom replied softly.

Tess sucked in a breath and closed her eyes, listening to their conversation and the deep purr of his accent. Goodness, it was so much more lethal in person.  _He_  was so much more lethal in person. It had taken all her courage to speak to him. Heaven knew how she was able to carry on an intelligent conversation with him while she delivered his order.

He looked good. Better than good. Handsome, polished, English. She knew that, of course. Even with the day-old scruff and droopy, tired blue eyes, he was dangerous and beautiful. It should be illegal for someone to look as good as he did in old jeans and a threadbare shirt.

“Tess?”

Tess startled and cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

“Come here,” Benny called.

She quickly patted down the front of her apron and stepped into the dining area. “What’s up?”

“I was perusing the menu,” he said, looking right at her, making her feel like she was the only person in the room, and that her more gorgeous, more buxom, more  _everything_  sister wasn’t sitting at the table with him.

“Oh, right.” Tess grinned. “Would you like something else?”

“Ah, no,” Tom said, his lips pursing curiously for a minute. He looked somewhat like a bird cocking his head to the side, watching her, probably trying to figure out how she and Benny could be twins because they were so dissimilar. “Not right now, at least. It’s my turn to host a house party on Saturday and I thought some of the adult cupcakes would be a good addition. Could you possibly fit an order in?”

“Sure,” she replied, without really thinking about it. Could she really spare the time to fit in yet  _another_ order when she was already behind? One look at his handsome face, and she already knew the answer to that. “Yeah. Let me get an order form. I’ll be right back.”

Tess didn’t hear what Benny and Tom spoke about as she went to her office for an order form. When she returned, Benny was smiling again and leaning conspiratorially close to Tom. She straightened up and looked over Tom’s head, directly at Tess, knowing she’d been caught.

Tess sighed. Of course, another man under her spell.

“Here it is,” Tess said, sliding the paper in front of Tom after she sat down across from him. She pulled a pen from her apron pocket and drew a bracket around the upper portion of the form. “Fill out your info here, address for delivery, and a number to reach you if I have any questions.”

Tom clicked the end of the ballpoint pen a few times after she pushed it over to him.  He set the point on the paper and glanced up at her. “Is there any chance this info will somehow find its way outside this bakery?”

Tess shook her head emphatically. “No, of course not! In fact, I’ll keep the order form private.”

“Good,” he replied with a small smile that she imagined was one he used to calm someone. It had little effect when it came to alleviating her anxiety.

The bakery had a long history of working with celebrities, thanks to Benny’s involvement at the movie studios around Atlanta. Tess had never had a problem with the security of client information before, and to have him worry about it made her question whether he truly believed she was trustworthy. Had she mistakenly given him the wrong idea?

 _No_ , she thought. She couldn’t have, or he wouldn’t purposely be dragging out their involvement with each other just for a few dozen cupcakes for a party. And yet, a part of her wondered if wasn’t just because he was interested in Benny.

Tess cleared her throat and asked, “When would you like delivery?”

“Um,” he squinted, “any time after four-ish? Whenever you and Benny can make it, that’ll be great.”

“Oh, Benny won’t—”

Benny reached out and placed a hand on Tess’ arm. Tess frowned and looked at her sister. “What?”

Benny didn’t reply, just rolled her eyes and shook her head. It was Benny-speak for ‘I can’t believe we shared a womb for nine months, I don’t understand how we can be related.’ Tess’ frown deepened. What was she missing?

“I guess I didn’t really make myself clear,” Tom said with a chuckle. “You’re both invited, too.”

“But we—”

Benny squeezed her arm this time, stopping Tess’ words. Really, it wasn’t right to expect an invite to the party. Had he thought she was digging— _hoping_ —for one? Goodness, what must he think of her? Benny’s reaction said otherwise, though.

“We’d love to come,” Tess said quickly. “My last wedding cake delivery is at three, so we probably won’t make it until five. Is that possible?”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “People just seem to filter in and out at these things, so I can never guess at a proper time… and it goes to until the last person passes out.”

She nodded and pulled the order form back after he finished writing. “Do you know how many and what kind you’d like?”

Tom laughed. “I have no idea how many. Maybe three dozen? There’ll be other things there.”

“Alright. Then three flavors,” Tess said. “I recommend a different flavor profile for each so you hit all the right spots.”

“I never have trouble hitting the right spot,” he murmured, with a wolfish grin and a wink.

Tess barely caught it, said as it was sotto voce and under his breath. Her face warmed in a blush. She had absolutely no idea how to handle it. What was he playing at, anyway?  

She reached for the menu and flipped it over to the side with the adult cake flavors. “Um, my favorites are The Tequila Sun Also Rises, James and the Giant Peach Bellini, and the Dubliners’ Chocolate Guinness and Whiskey.”

Tom laughed. “I love these names.”

“It’s what you do when you have a degree in English and end up a pastry chef,” Tess replied. 

“I like it,” he replied, eyeing her again.

Tess shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Benny, who had been unusually quiet during this whole exchange. She started to ask Benny about helping her deliver other cakes on Saturday, but stopped when the timer on her watch began beeping. The cakes in the oven were ready to come out.

“Darn. I need to take some things out of the oven. Each dozen is $60, plus tax. Benny, can you ring that up for him?” she asked.

Benny nodded and waved her hand. “Got it, sis.”

By the time Tess had emptied the ovens and placed the cakes on cooling racks, Benny sauntered back into the kitchen, sticking her hip out and resting against the center island. Tess glanced at her sister and her overly smiley face.

“What?” Tess asked.

“He just left,” Benny replied. “And gave you like a hundred-dollar tip.”

Tess frowned. “So? He knows we’re busy, he’s just being nice about the last minute order.”

“He likes you.”

“Most people do because I’m actually  _nice_  to them. You should try it on occasion,” Tess said.

“No, Tessy,” Benny said with a laugh, “he’s totally  _into_ you.”

Tess shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

Benny held up her hands in surrender and backed away from the island. “Alright, if you say so. But don’t come crying to me when a good thing passes you by.”

“It wouldn’t matter anyway. He’s here for what? A month? And then he goes on with his life back in England. My life is here,” she said. “If he’s into me or anyone else here, he only wants a warm body in his bed. Not someone like me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny said.

“I know that you have a long history of being one of those warm bodies for itinerant actors here filming,” Tess replied. “So forgive me if I don’t quite trust your opinion on what he does or does not want from me.”

Benny groaned and rolled her eyes. “You know what? You need to get laid. It’ll loosen you up. You’re wound too tight all the time.”

Tess leveled a glare at her sister. “There’s massages and vibrators for that. Isn’t that why you took me to that store, anyway?” Tess was still dying from secondhand embarrassment after listening to Benny discuss the pros and cons of specific adult toys with the sales clerk. For two hours.

“Baby,” Benny said, “Ain’t no vibrator taking the place of what a man can do to you. And I’m telling you, that man that just left? He’s got it all.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that.”

“Well, as you say, I know men,” Benny said. “And I know what to look for outside of bed that translates to skill in bed and Tom Hiddleston is tops. He’s a people pleaser, like you. Won’t stop ‘til you’ve had yours.”

Tess’ cheeks enflamed again, the heat burning down her throat and fanning out through her body. So… what? He’d make her feel great and then she wouldn’t know what to do… and end up making a fool of herself with someone clearly much more practiced than she. Not to mention the fact that he had gorgeous models and actresses and popstars beating down the door to be with him, too.

It just wasn’t going to happen, no matter how optimistic her sister was.

Though, Tess had to admit, it was nice to know her sister thought so highly of her.

With another sigh, Tess turned to look at Benny. “I appreciate your concern, but I need to get back to work or I’m going to fall even further behind. And DeAndre won’t be back from his son’s doctor’s appointment for another hour.”

Benny lifted her mug to her lips as she moved toward the back door. It would be easier just to go through the door connecting the formal dining room and the photography studio, but Benny never did things that were easy. She stopped at the door, and before closing it behind her, and poked her head back in. “Just think about it, Tess. You gotta take care of it sometime. Why not have a story to tell?”

The door closed, leaving Tess in silence.  Tess closed her eyes and counted to twenty, reining in her emotions. Benny just didn’t understand. She couldn’t possibly, seeing how extroverted she was around others. None of this was that simple, and it would never be that simple for Tess.

It was best to forget about it.


End file.
